November (8 page)
Authors: Gabrielle Lord
‘I’ll call him back and see if he’s keen to help us watch over Sligo’s, while you,’ I said, turning to Winter, ‘sneak into his scram bag and collect.’
It was the eleventh of November—the date that had mysteriously appeared across my blog, and the date of Ryan Spencer’s birthday. I was huddled in my sleeping-bag, on the floor of the treehouse, woken up by the sound of birds squawking in a nearby tree.
I was pretty sure the date on my blog was from someone trying to alert me to Ryan’s existence, but now that the day had come I felt uneasy. What if it was a warning about something
completely
unrelated to him?
Talking to Ryan would have been a good idea, but I didn’t know how to get in touch with him unless I went to his house. I couldn’t spring that on him again. Not only that, but I didn’t want to risk a trip out. Was I in danger?
I hated the unknown.
I decided it was safest to stay put. I pulled the sleeping-bag up over my ears and tried to go back to sleep.
Boges and I waited in the back lane behind Sligo’s place. Sharkey had dropped us off on the street, but he couldn’t stick around—he reluctantly admitted to us that he had a ‘hot date’ to go to!
Winter had disappeared inside the house sometime earlier, wearing a purple sarong over her black bikini, and carrying a towel and the beach bag that concealed the crucial piece of Oriana’s leopard-print scarf. Sligo was out right now, so her plan was to get into his room while the place was empty, steal the money from the cigar boxes, stash it into her bag, then dive into the pool just in time for his return home. She’d pretend she’d been splashing around in there all afternoon.
I thought of the last time we’d been at Sligo’s, hiding in the pool shed, waiting for Winter’s
hidden
camera to come online, and sweating it out when Bruno almost found us in there.
‘I hope she’s going to be OK,’ I said. ‘Sligo will go nuts when he realises his money’s missing. Especially when he thinks Oriana’s the thief.’
‘Maybe he won’t even notice for a while,’ said Boges. ‘Unless he checks the bag every day, it could be weeks before he realises it’s been taken.’
It was still hot even though the sun was
setting
. I took a sip of water out of a drink bottle Boges had brought along.
‘Quick,’ said Boges, ‘look who’s coming! You’d better call her.’
The black Subaru, driven by Zombie Two, with Sligo sitting beside him like a toad in a cravat, was cruising along the street. I grabbed my mobile and hit Winter’s number.
‘They’re here,’ I hissed, as soon as she picked up. ‘Pulling up outside now.’
‘He’s locked it,’ she said, despairing. ‘I can’t find the key to the suitcase. I don’t know where he’s put it!’
‘Winter,’ I said, ‘you’ll have to forget about it. Just get out of his room and into the pool. You’re supposed to be over there for a swim,
remember
?’
I hung up.
‘The suitcase is locked,’ I whispered to Boges. He swore under his breath as we waited anxiously
in the back lane. After about two minutes—two painfully slow minutes—we heard a splash in the pool. Both of us exhaled with relief.
It was a long time before we finally saw
Winter
leaving Sligo’s through the back gate. She’d wrapped her sarong around her like a dress, tied at the neck. The beach towel and bag were slung over her shoulder, and her hair still looked sleek and wet.
She shook her head slowly in our direction, warning us with her eyes. Then we heard
footsteps
following her. Someone was walking her out. Sligo!
Boges and I crouched down even further, but not before seeing Winter stop and turn to Sligo, who took her in his arms and kissed her on the forehead.
Once the coast was clear, Boges and I made our way to the beach. Winter had agreed to meet us there as soon as the job was done.
We were sitting on the breakwater, kicking our legs out, both feeling dejected, knowing that Winter had been unable to get into Sligo’s
suitcase
. I couldn’t get the image of Sligo kissing her
on the forehead out of my mind. Who did he think he was, replacement father of the year? It made me mad.
Impatient, I pulled out my mobile and called her. She picked up almost immediately.
‘We’re already at the beach. Are you on your way?’
‘Almost there,’ she said, before hanging up.
‘What did she say?’ asked Boges. ‘What happened?’
Winter suddenly jumped out from the
darkness
, almost giving us both heart attacks. ‘Ten big ones happened!’ she said, ducking between us and swinging her arms around our shoulders.
‘Ten big ones?’ I repeated. ‘Ten thousand dollars?’
She nodded and patted her beach bag.
My jaw dropped. Boges’s mouth was wide open, too.
‘I knew it was in there! I’ve already counted it,’ said Winter. ‘I left all the cigar boxes exactly as they were in his bag, minus the money, of course. Unless Vulkan actually needs to open one of the boxes, he won’t suspect a thing!’
‘But I thought it was locked. How did you get into it?’
‘Practically as soon as I hung up from you, I found the key. I just had time to get the bag open,
extract the money, snag the piece of Oriana’s scarf on a clothing hanger, and get downstairs and into the pool! And here we are,’ she said.
Even in the dim light I could see the broad size of her smile.
‘Give us a look!’ said Boges.
We both leaned in as Winter proudly held the bag open and revealed the cash—wads of one-hundred dollar notes.
‘Ireland, here we come!’ said Boges. ‘Hey, we could make it a round-the-world trip!’
‘Don’t get too carried away,’ I said.
‘Another successful excursion!’ said Boges, standing up. ‘All right you two, I’d better get going. I have to start thinking about what story I’m going to tell Mum and Gran to cover the trip. Last year, some of the seniors went to Thailand for a couple of weeks to work with rescued
elephants
. I guess I could try something like that.’
‘Maybe rescued leprechauns?’ I suggested.
‘Hmm, that could work!’ my friend joked. ‘Let me know when you want to catch up again.’
In front of the moon, the sky was purple mauve over the dark sea. Winter sat like a mermaid on the rocks just beyond the reach of the lamps that lit the curving beachfront.
‘Careful your bag doesn’t get washed away,’ I said as I stepped up to join her.
‘There’d have to be a tidal wave for me to let that happen. Hey,’ she said, moving over to make room for me, ‘I have some other really good news for you too. It involves Oriana, but that’s all I’m going to tell you right now. You’ll find out for yourself soon enough. Just check the news.’
Her cheeky grin told me not to bother trying to find out what she was on about.
‘You have no idea how creepy Sligo’s bedroom is,’ she said, moving on. ‘It’s all black—even the carpet. I was getting desperate to find the key to his suitcase, frantically feeling around behind all his suits and jackets in the built-in wardrobe. And that’s when I finally came across it, taped to the wall behind the suitcase. You’d better let Sharkey know the plan worked, and that he can go ahead and get that guy to start on your fake passport.’
‘Definitely. I’ll text him a bit later.’
‘Here, these are for your passport photo,’ she said, handing me a small plastic container. ‘Dark brown contact lenses. You should wear them when you get your picture taken—to help you look different.’
I opened the container and looked inside,
trying
to hold it up so the contents were more visible
in the moonlight. ‘Cool, thanks, I’ve never worn contacts before.’
‘They’re super easy to put in.’
‘Hey, guess what?’ I said. ‘Sharkey’s going to Ireland too, for a huge family reunion.’
‘Really? When?’
‘Some time over Christmas.’
‘How cool! That means we can all go together!’ said Winter. ‘It’d be perfect having Nelson with us. He’d know exactly what airport traps we should avoid, and it’d look good for us to be
travelling
with an “adult”. We can pretend he’s our teacher or something. Here,’ she said, digging into her bag and handing me some wads of cash. ‘That’s five grand there. That’ll cover your
passport
, and leave you with some extra. Maybe that Ormond Angel is looking out for you—it’s about time, considering we only have a few weeks left until the Ormond Singularity dies.’
I really hoped I wouldn’t die before it.
It was getting late, so Winter and I started
walking
away from the shore. We made our way over the sand and grass in silence, only stopping to speak once we’d reached the road.
‘So I guess I’ll give you a call soon?’ I asked her.
‘Um, yeah,’ she said, uncertainly. ‘You’re off to the treehouse?’
‘That’s home, right now. How’s Lesley Street been since the raid? Have your neighbours been talking?’
‘It’s been OK. Apparently this one guy who lives on the ground floor contacted the police. He said he’d seen you loitering downstairs.’
